


quitting time

by kinpika



Series: drunk in love, i want you [1]
Category: Sweet Elite (Visual Novel)
Genre: Even if he's being a nuisance, F/M, Fashion Department, He promises, He's helping with homework, not too distant future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 00:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “Seriously, is that all? I’m kind of disappointed in you right now.”“Axel just…shhhh.I’m concentrating!”“On myinseam?”





	quitting time

“So what’s it like, having _exclusive_ rights to my face?”

Laying on the tease thick, Axel has to bat his eyelids when his rather stressed companion finally decides to look up at him. For her effort at least, Harper scowled and returned to her measuring tape, not even offering a mumble of annoyance. Every so often, she’d turn him left or right, just to make sure that everything fit, but as far as conversation went, Axel wasn’t getting anywhere.

And he knew — of course he did — that a big showcase was coming up. Which is why he offered to play at being model after catching her crying over _The Notebook_ and three boxes of chocolates in the cafeteria lounge. That, and well, he didn’t like to see her cry, even if this time it was a little ridiculous. 

“Seriously, is that all? I’m kind of disappointed in you right now.”

“Axel just… _shhhh_. I’m concentrating!”

“On my _inseam_?”

That little comment receives a light slap on his knee, and he laughs. She got riled up so easy sometimes, honestly. But a smile hovers somewhere around the left corner of her mouth, and Axel had to count that as a win. “Want me to sing for you? I can massage your shoulders from up here too.”

Finally, Harper rocks back on her heels, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’d rather you just stay still, but that’s not happening is it?”

“Nope,” Axel answered without missing a beat, and took the opportunity to step down from his little podium, stretching as he walked.

Harper didn’t push him, mimicking him with her arms over her head, before fishing her phone out of her pocket. Taking one look at her scrolling through some form of social media or other, Axel took the time to have a look at their dressing room. Haphazardly strewn curtains to offer some semblance of privacy, mirrors that may or may not have been borrowed without permission, and enough drawings strewn around the place that it was a comforting sort of mess.

It was very Harper, and Axel told her as much.

“Shut up.” But she’s blushing, finally settling back to sit completely on the ground. Before she fell back, laying down completely, phone centred squarely on her chest. Watching her eyes close, Axel took that as _quitting time_ , and almost started removing the various layers that constituted as a jacket thrown over him, until he remembered ‘pins’. Probably shouldn’t tempt fate. 

Oh well. He’d give her ten minutes grace until nudging her awake. Taking that time to look her over carefully, Axel noted deep bags under her eyes, a distinct need to dye her hair again (time to book the both of them in, now that he noted his own tips), and the grey sweats that meant something along the lines of ‘don’t look at me, I’m stressed’. He’s pretty sure he’d heard Harper call them her ‘depression greys’ once, while she was facedown in the library studying overtime with Raquel.

“You know, for such a _fashion icon_ … you really can’t dress yourself.”

Harper flips him off, rolling onto her side as she went. “I’m so… tired.” If the defeat in her voice didn’t sound so comical, Axel might’ve been concerned. Good thing little miss fashionista was so far ahead of her class, that this showcase was just for extra credits. Axel almost wanted to remind her that no one was forcing her to participate, but he’d already had both Neha and Harper down his throat over such a comment.

And, well, Axel really didn’t want to test just how far he could push the absolutely accomodating attitudes of two people he trusted to dress him. Even if Neha only saw him by appointment, these days.

Finally, Harper groans and looks up at him. If Axel didn’t know her any better, he’d say she was kind of out of it. Except he knew that look, and that look was not his friend. It was a little bit on the calculating side, like an idea had just lightbulbed in her head and another part adventurous, all at once. Never a good sign.

“You know, this angle looks really good from down here,” she says, slyly, phone in hand. Oh no, he’d already done one of those ‘guerrilla fashion shows’, just for her. His agent had a field day over it, citing it as the worst decision in the history of Axel’s career — never mind that he ended up trending on social media for at least a good week _just_ for that. 

But that was all beside the point. Pouting, Axel crosses his arms. “Babe, get me out of this already.”

Harper began fiddling with her phone, in a ‘choosing a filter’ kind of way. “No.”

“I’ll take it off myself,” he threatened, already going to pull arm after arm out. 

Barely above a whisper, Harper almost sounded horrified. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

A standoff. That’s what it was. Harper narrowed her eyes at him, and Axel only shot the look back. Neither of them dared to blink, not yet. 

Harper folded first. “I can’t believe you’re making me get up.”

Laughing loudly, Axel wiggled his brows at her. “I can always get down there with you,” he says, already going to squat down beside where she lay.

Pushing a hand in his face, Harper laughs with him. “You’ll just get the clothes dirty!”

It takes some effort for Harper to drag herself to her feet, but she’s good at her work. Axel hadn’t even really taken notice of how she’d taken the material off him, carefully setting it on the nearby mannequin before he’d realised he was a little bit colder than before. Pins barely showed, and he had to appreciate the material, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. 

She stands beside him, taking in her work. “You know, it’s always been so much easier to design and make my own clothes.” The comment had an absentminded feel, as if it was more of just a quiet thought to herself, than aloud. Something he had heard her mention once or twice in passing to others in her department, but from the way others phrased it, they made it sound like a personal failing of hers. 

However, it didn’t stop Axel from looping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “I guess this just means you’ll have to practice on me more often.”

Harper takes an extra three seconds longer than he figures she should’ve, before she turns to face him, lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wait… does that mean—?”

“Yep.”

“Really?! You’re—you’re _sure_ sure?”

“Definitely.”

She honest-to-god squealed, arms thrown around him, nearly knocking the both of them over. Worth it. “ _Thankyouthankyouthankyou_!”

Axel doesn’t reply, drowned out anyway by the words falling from Harper. Ideas, designs, praises, thanks. All wrapped up in a million words a second. That’s fine by him, arms secured firmly around her waist, holding her close. He could feel her listing off things on her fingers against his shoulders, taps going well beyond ten, maybe getting a little bit closer to forty. He’d kind of lost count by now.

When she finally pulls back, to swivel in his arms, facing the mannequin, Axel just rests his chin on the top of her head and smiles. 


End file.
